Mechanical Men
by DeniPie
Summary: A little 'what if.' What would happen if Beck hadn't simply left Dorothy on that building after her memories had been removed. Set during "The Big Fight."
1. Default Chapter

Just thought I'd try a lil something different w the big o series. Remember the episode "The Big Fight"? I forgot what number it was. N.E.wayz, what if something different happened with Dorothy's body after her memories had been taken? Oh, and for everyone reading my other fic "Show Me How It Ends" I'm not abandoning it, I've got most of the 11th chap done, I've just been keeping "Mechanical Men" on hold and wanted to at least get the first chap out.

* * *

M e c h a n i c a l M e n : C h a p t e r I – J a s o n

* * *

_I'll pretend that I want you for what is on the inside  
But when I get inside I'll just want to get out  
I'm your first and last deposit through sickness and in hell  
I'll never you promise you a garden, you'll just water me down_

_I can't believe that you are for real  
I don't care as long as you're mine_

_When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"  
When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"_

_I'm unsafe  
I'm unsafe  
I won't regret  
So I memorize the words to the porno movies  
It's the only thing I want to believe  
I memorize the words to the porno movies  
This is a new religion to me  
I'm a VCR funeral, a definite waste  
My smile's a chainlink fence, that I have put up  
I love the enemy, my love is the enemy  
They say they don't want fame  
But they get famous when we fuck_

_When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"  
When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"_

_I'm unsafe  
I'm unsafe  
I won't regret  
So I memorize the words to the porno movies  
It's the only thing I want to believe  
I memorize the words to the porno movies  
This is a new religion to me_

_I never believed the devil was real  
But God couldn't make someone filthy as you_

_When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"  
When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"  
When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"  
When I said "we" you know I meant "me"  
And when I said "sweet" I meant "dirty"_

_You are the church, and I am the steeple  
When we fuck, we are all God's people  
You are the church, and I am the steeple  
When we fuck, we are all God's people_

Slutgarden – Marilyn Manson

* * *

Well_ that_ was weird. A tall, fashionably dressed man with meticulous curly blond hair stood atop an old hotel building with three pink mechanical scorpions and a now off line android. He didn't expect the involuntary cringe when his robot took her hard drive out. Then again it did do it rather aggressively; he noted observing the few severed red and green wires protruding from, the otherwise almost human looking, girl's forehead. He remembered how her mechanized eyes had focused directly on him the second before the clawed scorpion hand had ripped her programmed mind right from her metallic head. An irritating ring tone caught his attention, tearing it away from the queer sight before him.

He picked it out of his pocket with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah."

"Well that's not exactly happiness to hear me, now is it?"

His ear suddenly felt very dirty, Alan Gabriel just had that affect on people, he supposed. And apparently that power could extend a good hundred miles through a wireless cellular phone connection. Luckily he didn't have to think up a reply to the bizarre question before he continued.

"Do you have them yet?"

His eyes automatically flickered to the hard drive still resting in the mechanical scorpion's claw. "Yeah, just got it." He stated a little suspiciously. Of course he had nothing to fear over the phone, but again, that was just the affect Alan gave off, as if he had some sort of psychotic omnipotent power.

"Then I should expect to receive them soon, yes?" It wasn't really a question.

"They're on their way now." He said waving his hand at the scorpion in question, giving the signal to head back to the specified base.

"Well done then." And that was it.

Taking the cell phone away from his ear he shoved it back into his pocket after turning it off just in time to watch the rest of the robots take off after the first. He only meant for one to go but it all worked out because now he didn't have to worry about the other two. He was supposed to just leave. Head back to Rosewater, see what else the boss wanted from him, but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off the broken android standing on top of the building ledge like a doll in a pose. He guessed she would just be trash now, just a shell that had been shed. He doubted anyone else would want anything to do with her, what could she do anyway?

Strolling over to the ledge himself he leaned back casually against it, resting his elbows on top of the cemented railing next to her feet. His eyes gave her a once over, moving unceremoniously up and down her body. Overtaken by a sudden irresistible curiosity, his hand reached to pick up the hem of her dress. Arching his head back in just the right position he was able to get a good look, his gaze traveling up thin black tight encased legs to black cotton panties covering the object of his curiosity. Letting her hem drop with a little sigh of disappointment his attention scanned up to the gaping VCR sized hole in her forehead. As they say, one man's trash in another man's new sex bot.

He snorted cockily giving the motionless android a little push, sending her crashing backwards into his arms. A loud grunt broke the silence, his eyes bulging with effort and strain. Well he obviously wasn't going to carry her back to the car. Taking in a deep strained breath he began the tedious task of dragging a two hundred and forty pound android down seven flights of stairs.

Beck was a man who took chances. In life, in work, in jail, and in everything around him. He made his own luck, as if, just by willing it, the dice he rolled would obey his mind and turn a seven. And now that he had found his dice, he just needed to find a good gambling table to toss them on.

* * *

"Do you even know what you're asking me?"

Beck stared down at the scrawny, pale, bald man, he looked sickly and anemic, he had no idea how the heavy looking coveralls he was wearing didn't send him to the floor. "You're telling me you can put together the Big Fau but you can't replace and install a simple hard drive?" He asked lazily clipping off the end of a cigar.

The little man, obviously one of Rosewater's engineers, stared up at him dumbfoundedly. His mouth flapping open in amazement like a fish out of water before replying. "You're asking me to build _a one of a kind_ hard drive for technology we have next to no idea about and somehow install it into the mainframe of something I've never even _seen_ before!"

The curly haired man growled in irritation. "You're using that hard drive and installing it into a God damn _megadeuce_, I think you've got a little bit more know how about this than you're telling me." He spat pointing his unlit cigar in the tiny engineer's face.

The pale man swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. "This is too much. I'm afraid I can't help you." He said, his voice quivering.

A small red glow illuminated the dimly lit room, seductive swirls of mist colored smoke rising and dancing from the end of the burning cigar. Beck blew a little ring at the terrified mechanic. "You know what I think, Carl?" Not waiting for him to reply, the blond haired con man answered his own question. "I think you're the kind of man that needs a little more motivation, other than my gratitude, to get a good job out of you. So let's try this," A sharp light gleamed out of his jacket as he casually removed a .45 semi-automatic, double-action pistol from his coat pocket and aimed it directly between Carl's eyes.

The little man almost wet himself before saying "I'm working for Alex Rosewater! There's no way he would let you get away with this."

Blowing another rude ring into the engineer's face, Beck just smirked around the cigar between his lips. "That so? Well the boss wants me right beside him when he takes over this backward little city. He needs me, you see? I've got a few memories fluttering about up here." He said tapping his temple with his free finger. "That makes me indispensable." A giggly chuckle vibrated through his throat. "_You_ on the other hand……."

Carl gulped, taking a deep breath. "I'll do my best." He tried not to let so much fear saturate his voice.

"That's all I ask." Beck said replacing the gun into his pocket holder. Just as he began to stroll off he looked over his shoulder calling back to the hyperventilating engineer, "Oh and I don't want this to take like months or years or whatever you're probably estimating. So you might wanna fill up most of your free time."

The little man stared after him in astonishment. He basically wanted him to recreate a feat of technological genius in less than a month with absolutely no preparation. Taking a snot covered handkerchief from his coveralls' pocket he smeared the sweat away from his forehead. He would definitely have to request to be a part of the hard drive management.

* * *

_-Two weeks later- _

_Riiiiinnnnggggg _

Beck groaned, flipping over on his side away from the offending noise.

_Riiiiinnnnggggg Riiiiinnnnggggg _

Flipping back over in irritation, in his sleep induced mind he missed the face that he had just returned to his original position.

_Riiiiinnnnggggg _

He cracked a bloodshot eye open to glare menacingly at the innocent telephone before scanning it over to the alarm clock next to it. It glowed a bright, mocking 4:15 a.m. at him.

_Riiiiin- _

A tanned hand darted out jerking the phone off the receiver and yanking it to his ear. "What!" He snapped.

"It's done." Came a weary voice on the other end.

Beck stared irritated and confused into the darkness of his room for a minute, it was too late for annoying pointless phone calls. "What th' hell are you talking 'bout?" He slurred sleepily.

"I finished her new hard drive, and I may know how to install it, but I need you to bring her down. Come to 4380 Tallins blvd."

Not bothering to hang the phone up, he let it drop from his hands to the floor with a loud plastic clack, before slumping his face into his pillow. God forbid the old fart finish at twelve in the afternoon or some other waking hour. Giving an exasperated sigh mixed with some good annoyance he halfhazardly flung his legs over the edge of the bed, barely able to support enough of his weight to lift the rest of him and tug on some pants.

* * *

His sleep marinated vision just refused to focus on the road. So much that he almost missed the sign reading Tallins blvd. suddenly jerking awake enough to bring the car to a screeching two-wheeled turn he ended up at another apartment building. There was Carl in a light blue robe waiting outside looking as nervous as ever. Beck glanced at him before letting his forehead drop to the steering wheel. He was too tired to deal with this. At the mention of certain dealings his gaze flickered up to the rearview mirror to peer at the inanimate girl lying in the back seat.

Ever since he had managed to drag her two hundred and forty pound ass back to the car that is exactly where he left her. Upon dragging her he realized that she was as rigid as a steel rod. Well, if he didn't get out and deal with the old man then those seven long flights of hell would be worth zilch. Gritting his teeth and summoning up enough strength to remove himself from the steering wheel and open the door he began to walk out to the fidgety engineer.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he glowered at the little man, as if he could send him to hell just by willing it. But before he could say a word a shaky hand dove for his arm, dragging him staggering into the building. And before he knew it they were at a door to a room on the first floor.

"Get in get in!" Carl ushered urgently.

Beck grunted in surprised as he was poked and prodded into the room. "hey, what the hell!" He bit out.

The other man paid him no mind instead he quickly shuffled over to the table holding up what looked to be a mini DVD player. Beck looked at it unimpressed. "Okay, what?"

"This is it; I haven't gotten a wink of sleep since you requested it." He beseeched.

"Yeah, join the club." He grumbled under his breath.

"I think people were getting suspicious with me spending so much time around Big Fau and the original drive but I was able study it enough. It's not an exact replica, no where near, but I think it could at least get her up and running with the proper compact disk."

Beck watched Carl's eyes shift all about the room as though it were crawling with cockroaches. They darted about with the paranoia of a schizophrenic. Before he could comment on it the eerie little man continued.

"If it can be infused with Big Fau, then your android should have the same basic components of insertion. I just need to take a look to make sure." He said looking at Beck expectantly.

"Okay." The taller man replied taking out a cigarette, he was appalled at out high the prices for cigars were being raised! He missed the confused and expectant expression stamping itself on Carl's face.

"No, I-I need to look at _her_." He explained.

Beck's teeth abruptly crunched onto the frail cigarette stem smashing it between his lips. "What?"

* * *

Great. Now all he needed was a black masked slave driver behind him cracking a whip at his back. Beck groaned, his vocal cords mirroring his strain, the guttural noises in sync with the careful grinding of R. Dorothy Wayneright's heels on the cement ground. He stopped for a minute to pant and wheeze for breath before continuing, going into the hallway.

"OpenupOpenupOpenup!" He snapped urgently upon reaching the door, not having any free hands to pound on it.

Instantly the numbered door swung open wide enough for the conman to drag the motionless android in. He glared menacingly up at the mechanic from his hunched position as he lugged her past the foyer.

"Quick! Put her on the table!" Carl whispered motioning for the dinner table he had prepared for her.

"Like hell!" He spat abruptly dropping the humanoid, oblivious to the reverberating thump it made upon contact with the carpeted floor.

The sickly engineer winced at the blatant abuse of such valuable technology. "Then I again, I suppose right here is just fine." He muttered.

"Damn right it is." Beck grumbled huffily. He watched the man kneel, gathering his tools and the new disk drive around him to begin work. His eyes flickered to his watch impatiently before sauntering over to the nearest recliner and promptly plopping himself down, crossing his ankles at the foot of the chair and his arms behind his head. His jaw worked itself wide for the obvious yawn echoing throughout his mouth. Making himself comfortable Beck's eyes slid shut intent on keeping his promise to make it up to the magical sleep fairy.

Of course it ended far too soon. It only seemed an hour or two until Carl reappeared hovering over the fox eyed man, cautiously prodding him to wake up. Groaning irritatedly his eyelids reluctantly resumed their open position. "Whaddaya want?" He slurred.

"It's done. Please you can't mention this to the boss! God knows what he'd do if he found out I was attempting to copy his work!" He pleaded.

Beck yawned uninterestedly waving off the older man. "Well you said yourself that you couldn't duplicate it perfectly, besides, isn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery or something like that?" He jeered. Walking back over to the newly reconstructed android was like walking back into hell after experiencing heaven. His posture gradually went from an immaculate impression of haughty rigidity to a reluctant slouch. Staring unwillingly down at the robot he placed an exasperated hand to his face. "I can't do this again." He muttered to himself.

"I think I may have a suitcase with wheels that you could place her on. It might make it easier." Carl suggested.

Nodding into his hand, Beck barely heard the other man shuffle into his room and return with a large wheeling suitcase. Glancing at it out of the corner of his eye he noticed it wasn't big enough for the entirety of Dorothy, but it was better than dragging her on nothing. Beck sighed frustratedly lugging the automaton onto the patterned suitcase.

It was surprisingly easier than he had originally thought! Granted she wasn't exactly _floating_ back to the car but the suitcase was much faster and wheeling her was better than hauling her around. Shutting the car door after he had put much strain into getting her in, he noticed that Carl had followed him out. He looked at him with a sort of impatient expectation.

"I take it you have a disk that would be compatible with her?" He asked still looking as paranoid as ever, as if Rosewater would just leap out of the bushes with a resonating boo at any moment.

"I think I can find something." Beck answered mischievously.

The little man nodded not wanting to pry into the gangster's private life. "I guess this is it then. Remember, you promised! No one is to know!" He reminded eagerly.

"Yeah yeah." He said nonchalantly as he climbed into the car.

* * *

Out of all the residents Rosewater had to gift him with, it had to be the one in the upper half of the apartment building. Luckily this one had a working elevator, but that didn't make the trip from the car to the elevator or the one from the elevator to his apartment any less hell. Finally heaving Dorothy onto his bed with an excruciating breath he leaned on his knees for a moment wheezing for air.

He paused to glower at her accusingly before walking over to his computer and taking out a compact disk from its own disk drive. Ambling back into his room he threw himself backwards onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. Finally, it was all done. All he needed to do was plug this baby in and it was finished. Speaking of which…..Beck glanced down at the gleaming, circular discus in his hand, the red cover revealing a scantily dressed raven haired woman looking back with sultry eyes and puckered lips. _'This'll do.' _He thought giddily hopping up and moving over to Dorothy.

Placing a knee on either side of her steel hips his hand frisked through her scarlet hair, pausing happily at the button shaped bump on the right side of her head. Pressing a long slender finger to it he let out a merry cry when the new disk drive slid open with a mechanical whizzing. Eagerly placing the compact disk into the slot he waited anxiously for it to close and show some sign of compatibility or function.

Beck jolted at the racing mechanics that began to operate upon closing. Her eyes sparked and seemed to come alive, as much as an android could, and begin scanning the newly added software. A frivolous smile broke through his face when her arms shifted up in motion that he hadn't seen in weeks.

"GAH!" he shouted suddenly finding himself shoved half way across the room and smashing into the wall. He grunted in pain his body sliding down the side and onto the floor. Moaning in agony at the ache in his back he went to get up, stopping suddenly at the familiar motorized monotonous voice that began to filter throughout the room

"Access denied. The username or password you entered was incorrect. If you have forgotten your password, please use the lost password form to recover it. If you are still unable to recover your password, see the FAQ for more information. If you would like to sign up for a username and password please go to registration."

Beck stared at her queerly for a second before crawling closer to her side of the bed. Kneeling up he hesitantly placed a hand on her arm.

She immediately grabbed it and shoved it away knocking him into the dresser behind him. "Access denied. The username or password you entered was incorrect. If you would like to sign up for a username and password please go to registration." She said automatically in her emotionless voice.

What? What the hell was he supposed to do? She was a robot not the freaking internet! Then again, he had gone this far….. "I want to register."

"You are welcome to join the most popular and most exciting NC-17 community around. Joining gives you the ability to fully interact with our material. Submit your own material and share in the material of others in the community. The process is fast, simple and best of all free. Please enter a username."

Well at least something was working in his favor. He already had an account with this 'community' but he wasn't exactly sure how it would work operating within an android, so he decided it was best just to start from scratch. "Jason Beck."

"Please enter password."

Beck thought for a minute, all his passwords were saved onto his computer so he couldn't remember his old one right off the bat, might as well make up another one. What should he use? Something that was easy to remember. A lascivious smile suddenly came over him at the thought. "android lover." He said shamelessly. _'If only Smith could see me now.'_ He thought arrogantly.

"Re enter password."

"Android lover."

"Would you like to subscribe to our newsletter?"

"No."

He watched her eyes flicker back and forth for a minute processing the information before coming to a halt. "Welcome, new member, to the Erotic Net community, please log in with your new username and password."

Beck rolled his eyes, he always hated these things, they said it would 'only take a minute' to register and it ended up taking for-freakin-ever. Jesus, how the hell was a guy supposed to maintain an erection through all this? And how the hell was he supposed to log into her anyway? He was about to comment before she continued.

"Username: "

_'Oh.'_ "Jason Beck."

"Password: "

"Android lover."

Her eyes scanned and whirled back and forth before coming to a halt. And then something odd happened. Instead of the automatic look they had continued to possess they suddenly took on a look of intelligence, still no emotion, but a stare of intellect, for a second Beck thought she had become R. Dorothy Wayneright again. The one that had focused her gaze on him so intently before violently having her memories ripped viciously from her head.

Beck watched for a moment, jumping a little when she made the second physical movement in weeks. Her head abruptly turned to him, her eyes staring at him the same way they had on that apartment building.

"You never learn, do you, Jason Beck." It wasn't really a question.

He started, crying out and jerking back into the dresser again. "What? You remember me!" He exclaimed.

"You are not a person that can be so easily forgotten, Jason Beck." She replied monotonously.

"B-but, your memories! They're gone, how are you doing this!" He cried kneeling up.

Dorothy looked at him expressionlessly. "You have taken the memories my father programmed me with, they reside within the components of the disk you have stolen. I am still able to access the information my sensory components have gathered on their own and stored within my CPU, those remain unaltered."

He blinked, staring at her dumbfoundedly before speaking. "So why exactly are you still lying there. Shouldn't you be smashing your way out of here and back to Crow Boy by now?" He questioned suspiciously.

"I cannot. You have taken the programming that would have allowed me to do so. Now I have a new program to run from. I am still scanning it and find it to be very crude and questionable." She said her voice underlying no emotion what so ever.

Beck smiled deviously, leaning forward crossing his arms on the bed and laying his lightly bearded chin between them. "Really, and what exactly are you now programmed to do?" He asked faking innocence.

A question that would have balked and outraged a normal human woman received no outward response from R. Dorothy.

"I am to await your instructions regarding this material. I believe I am to imitate these women in sexual intercourse." No blush, no flicker of feeling in her eyes, accompanied this statement that would normally make any female blush.

Beck almost clapped his hands in glee before he leaped onto the bed, resuming his straddling position. "Yep!" He exclaimed.

Dorothy turned her head to follow his change in movement. Watching him with cold robotic eyes.

He examined her, trying to imagine what exactly her body would look like beneath that tea dress the negotiator always made her wear. He wondered exactly how talented the artistic skills of the late Timothy Wayneright were. Not being able to stand the suspense any longer, his ringed and jeweled fingers dove for her collar. "Hmm, button, button, button…" He murmured, trying to ferret out the first button to undo. He let out a jovial cry when his hands finally stumbled upon it underneath her kerchief. His fingers sprang each tiny plastic plate from their cotton prison with the deftness of a renowned tailor, stopping when he reached the skirt.

He quickly parted the lapels and went for the blouse underneath giving it the same hurried treatment, his eyes occasionally darting up to glance at her unchanging face, as if he expected a reaction to lay there in place of nothingness. At last the last of the shirts were parted to her shoulders and the upper body was bare to his gaze. His tongue darted out to sweep across his lips. Mr. Wayneright was an artistic genius indeed.

Looking up at her face again his hands reached to start at her hair. It felt real, like a humans, thick and silky, and inhumanly immaculate. They began their downward decent, stopping at her face. That was obviously not human, it felt cold, metallic, and steel-like, with the exception of what he guessed was supposed to be a protective synthetic skin covering the outside. The entirety of her face mirrored his hypothesis, all but her lips. His long piano fingers skimmed the pale parody of human lips with a little surprise. They were incredibly soft and touchable. He moved over them a little more, trying to flush out the secret behind them. _'Huh, silicone. Who'd a guessed?'_

Well he supposed that is what the old man would construct with the most humanoid intent. If he was supposed to replace his daughter then he would want the soft, malleable, lips of a person to kiss instead of a metallic travesty. His hands continued to travel down her chin, to her neck, which possessed the same steel-like entity as her face, across what looked like a constructed collar bone, and finally to the breasts. Beck held his eyes shut, not wanting to suffer the disappointment to find that the old fart didn't' have the balls to assemble his daughter with natural feeling breasts.

His lids snapped to attention at the soft and firm feel now gliding under his fingers. _'Wayneright you dog!_' He thought ecstatically. Apparently he had remade her lips in breast form, the same glue-like silicone lying beneath the protective false skin covering. They were small but firm, he would guess the father had a hard enough time giving his daughter breasts at all, let alone undergoing the process of endowing them. They were as pale as the rest of her, though the areola and nipple were a rather fleshy color, predominantly contrasting with the rest of her whitish skin. He toyed with them for a while, rubbing and twisting them with his fingers, still finding no reaction residing in her face.

Now was the moment of truth. Beck had found the zipper of her dress and had managed to slide it around the front. Now all he had to do was unzip and take a look at what he had to work with. He had to keep in mind that a father was remaking his daughter and no doubt did not want to remake her into a harlot. But still! This wasn't perversion anymore, this was clear anatomy! Surely the man would have been mature enough to realize that! Even though he, himself, wasn't! A recognizable whizzing and sliding noise broke the silence as he took hold of the zipper and tugged it down.

"Lift your hips." He instructed. Pulling the skirt down and off when she did as she was told.

And so there she lay. In nothing but two open shirts, panties and her black stockings. Beck pursed his lips in concentration, toying with the seam on her underwear hesitantly before sliding his fingers into the waistband. Letting out a tense breath he began to slide them down as well. He grunted in frustration when they became caught on her ankles, but he managed to tug them off as well. And there it was. Beck placed a hand to her pale, pristine nether region. Not a hair, not a freckle, not a mole in sight. It was too good to be true.

Sliding his hands underneath either of her thighs he hefted them onto his shoulders. The android could practically do the freakin lambada on a 4 centimeter railing; he had no doubt that she would be able to balance her weight enough so that she didn't crush his shoulder blades. His hand went to her backside, the fingertips resting on the top of her rear slit before he ran his fingers from her back to her front, delving them into her to feel what lay beneath.

Of course it was too good to be true, wasn't it always. Beck let out a disappointed sigh when his fingers delved into the cleft of her backside, skimming over what should have been a hole between the two porcelain globes, yet there was none. He supposed it made sense. Why would an android ever need an anus? Clenching his eyes shut as if bracing himself for a hit, he took a deep breath his fingers continuing their journey up into her front crevice, silently praying. _'Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease!'_ He chanted in his head. His eyes suddenly snapped open at the strange finding.

Placing one hand underneath her, onto her lower back, he abruptly shoved her up further, closer to his face for inspection while his free hand continued to explore her nether opening. There was no labia, no clit, just the outer lips and beneath was nothing except a little hole which he guess was made to be a make shift vagina. Beck cocked his head, getting a better look. Her nether lips were made of the same synthetic skin and silicone as her lips, breasts, and backside but it was just odd to see nothing inside. He supposed he should be grateful that the good doctor had been man enough to at least give her this. Besides, all he really needed was a hole between her legs, right?

Taking his venture a little further he inserted his index finger into the tiny hole. Apparently her father had cushioned her walls with the same skin and silicon too, it was probably to take up space, God forbid anything get lost up there. The hole was too small he realized, her walls wouldn't' constrict or expand like a normal woman's would, he had no idea how he was supposed to go about this. His brows drew into an irritated furrow as he continued to probe at her tiny opening, his finger alone felt cramped, how was he expected to fit into that? Beck's gaze flickered over to the android in question's face, suddenly curious.

"Can you feel this?" he asked, continuing to insert and retract his finger.

"I have sensors in that area, if that is what you're asking." She replied automatically.

"So you can feel what I'm doing?" He questioned.

"I am able to feel touch."

Beck nodded. "And what do you think about it?"

"What do I think about you putting your fingers into the opening between my legs?" She asked, trying to specify.

"Yeah, can you feel it?"

"I told you that I could feel touch."

He gave out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah but do you like it?" He explained.

Dorothy continued to watch him with her mechanical eyes and expressionless face. "You wonder if I am taking pleasure from what you are doing." It wasn't a question because she already knew the obvious answer.

"And?" He waited a while, she seemed to study him, gauging what exactly he was asking her, as if she were scanning her data base for the correct answer and not being able to find one.

"Humans have a certain ability to differentiate between touches that I do not possess. I have read your disk and scanned its contents. My sensors are not like yours. Mine only differentiate between the areas being touched, not the level of sensual gratification each derives from it."

Beck rolled this around in his mind a bit before continuing. "So basically I could touch you here and then touch your foot and you wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"The effect of both would be the same." She replied monotonously.

"So you can't…………ya know?" He said wanting to make a rather vulgar motion with his hands to indicate what he was referring to, but unfortunately they were both preoccupied.

"I do not understand your question."

He prayed he didn't have to explain sex to her, he had hoped the disk covered that already. "You can't come." He explained.

"You are not referring to the act following or approaching, I assume." She said. "You are asking me whether or not I can come to the peak of sexual excitement, characterized by strong feelings of pleasure and by a series of involuntary contractions of the muscles of the genitals, usually accompanied by the ejaculation of semen by the male. You are wondering if I can attain an orgasm, then?"

_'That's _one_ way to put it.'_ He thought. "Yeah, that." He had never heard the actual encyclopedic definition of an orgasm before.

"No I cannot. My sensors can not discriminate sensual touch."

Beck's eyes glanced back down at her slit. Such a flawless example of womanhood, yet it was completely useless to her. "That's gotta be hell." He muttered, more to himself than to her.

"I have never experienced sensual pleasure, or pain. Therefore I cannot know the difference between having and not having them."

He looked back down at her. That was true; there were people who were born blind and perfectly happy because they had never known what it was like to have sight, so how would they know what they were missing? Well, he supposed it didn't matter either way, her enjoyment would have been just an added bonus, but he could do just fine without it. _'Speaking of which….'_ He thought smiling lecherously at her at the remembrance of what he had her repaired for in the first place. Lowering her hips back down onto the bed so that he kneeled right between her legs he began to shrug off his gold jacket and unbutton his black dress shirt.

She watched him dispassionately, calculatingly, her eyes staying on him as if ordered by some higher power. Beck let his clothes drop off the bed, kneeling in nothing but his gold colored pants he stared at her as if waiting for some flicker of emotion. But of course that was impossible. Placing his hands on either side of her bare waist he slowly crawled up her body until they were face to face before settling on top of her. It was an odd feeling, the feeling of cold metal pressing relentlessly into his soft warm flesh. It made goose bumps dot all over his skin, sending shivers up his spine.

Most women he did this to would ask him to take some of his weight off them and would start badgering him about him crushing them when he lay there after sex. It was really irritating, because of course right after he rolled off they always wanted to talk or 'snuggle.' His teeth bit at his lip as he pressed his chest closer to her breasts, feeling the malleable metallic globes push against his heated skin.

"I was not built for your programming."

Beck glanced at her, her voice taking him from his erotic reverie. "What?"

"I was not made for service of this nature. I cannot be those women on the disk you have given me. I am not like them. Humans were made for procreation, I was not."

He let out a low chuckle moving his pelvis against her unyielding hips. "I never asked you to 'procreate.' I just want a fuck-bot to come home to. And don't worry, I can work around everything else, I'm a very creative man."

Dorothy just gazed at him impassively. Humans seemed to have the odd penchant for an action made for reproduction; yet they had no desire to reproduce. She honestly did not understand their strange partiality to it. Sex was only a physical union of male and female genitalia accompanied by rhythmic movements leading to the ejaculation of semen from the penis into the female reproductive tract; as far as she knew. The only reasoning she could concoct was their affinity derived from the endorphins produced after coitus. Endorphins dulled the effects of pain and could affect human emotions. Her eyes darted down to inspect the sudden zipping noise coming from below.

Beck had once again sat up just enough to remove his belt, pants, and gold colored boxers, before resuming his position over her. His hands stroked at her breasts, testing their pliability and softness beneath his fingertips, his hips having a mind of their own against the juncture of her legs. Craning his head beneath her chin he let his tongue slide down the cold metallic length of her neck. Reaching the space between her breasts he nipped teasingly at the skin he found there before moving to lave one of her nipples into his mouth. He gave a pleasurable sigh, his hands snaking under her arms to grasp the backs of her shoulders as his groin continued to playfully tap at the supple manmade womanhood.

A shudder slithered up his body making his toes clench and curl. It was such a new feeling, the strange array of rigid steel sloping and rising into softness. It was like freezing and burning to death all at once. He swallowed a ragged breath, digging his fingers into the backs of her shoulders hard enough to bruise a human woman as he lacerated the bare area between her breasts once again, roughly dragging his tongue along the false skin.

His smooth, callous less hands slid down her back, rolling across her hips, to rest on the insides of her thighs that barely gave him enough room for himself. "Open your legs." His voice was husky giving him a smoldering air as he threw her a lecherous grin.

A soft almost unnoticeable mechanical whooshing sound accompanied the slight addition of extra space between the thin childlike limbs.

"Wider."

The sound of working machinery came again until he had a decent amount of space.

He panted, rubbing his hands roughly along the sickly colored flesh imitation covering her thighs. His eyes glanced down at her face, not surprised to see the same emotionless, calculating look she always wore. To watch her stare at him with that detached, almost challengingly so, gaze he didn't know whether to slap her or fuck her senseless. Of course neither could really happen. He would've loved to have slapped the shit out of her a long time ago, but all that would have left him with would be an unaffected android and a broken hand. And trying to fuck her senseless would be like trying to screw the mind out of a vacuum cleaner. It just didn't work.

The tip of his tongue slipped across his lips as he gave his groin one last grind against her nether lips before slipping back to thrust into her.

"Ah! FUCK!"

Dorothy blankly watched Beck rear away from her so fast he fell backwards off the bed altogether. Upon hearing the curses and whimpers continue up from the floor she rose to her knees to crawl to the edge of the bed. Looking down she saw the lengthy man curled into a fetal position clutching at his groin, his face red and cursing vehemently. Finally, she observed expressionlessly as he gathered a deep, controlled breath and gradually let it out, appearing to pull himself together. He slowly brought himself up into a semi sitting position, obviously still careful of his tender manhood. "I told you I was not built for servitude of this sort."

Beck glared up at her hovering face as she stared down at him from her perch on the edge of the bed. "The hell you're not." He snapped, yanking himself to his feet and stomping heatedly across the room and into his bathroom.

That was the last straw! It wasn't about sex anymore! It was a matter of principle! Dicks were meant to go into vaginas! Granted it was a manmade vagina, but that wasn't the point! If he failed at this then the entire fiber of sex itself would collapse! How could he ever trust sex again if he failed? Plus that would mean all of his hard work would be for nothing! Dragging her sorry two hundred and forty pound ass half way across the city would be for shit! And there was _no_ way he was going to let that happen!

He was only gone for all but two minutes before tramping back into the room with a lavender colored bottle in his hand. Dorothy glanced at it, her eyes zooming in from across the room to read the label. "Liquid Satin. That is a conditioner. A woman's conditioner." She stated.

Beck fumbled for a second before glaring at her. It wasn't his fault that men's conditioner couldn't detangle for shit! He walked to the bed climbing back onto it when she backed away to make room for him. "Lie down." He commanded.

She did as she was told, just as her programming bid her. He didn't tell her this time; instead he just spread her legs apart himself, rather aggressively so. She watched him raise the bottle to his other hand, squeezing the lavender tube until a fat string of thick opaque liquid coiled into it. His hand darted down to rub the substance over his loins before thrusting several slippery fingers into the place he seemed so ardent to put things in. She honestly could not comprehend the purpose of sex without the intent of reproduction. This action was created for a specific objective yet now it was turned in an ineffective and pointless feat. Her thoughts were interrupted as Beck was suddenly hovering over her, his hands pressing against her shoulders, pinning her to the bed.

"Okay then, how about we try this again." He said before guiding himself into her entrance.

He hissed a bit at the impossibly tight fit. A breath of relief and pleasure broke through him when he felt himself glide slickly through her. Lips pursing tightly, he began the age old rhythm within her. His hands continued to push her into the mattress, his thumbs digging into her metallic collarbone as he moved above her.

She could feel it. She could feel his 'male genitalia' thrusting in and out of her, and she supposed she was supposed to be feeling something. Something that would make her want to do this act. Something that would make her want to do this act again. But her sensors only relayed to her that a foreign object was now inside her. She watched his face hover over her, held up by his arms connected to the hands currently clutching the front of her shoulders in a talon-like grip. A thin sheen of sweat coated his body like a glaze and his teeth were gritting inside his mouth. His overall look was of someone trying to endure a deep pain, but Dorothy was well aware that it was not pain that was making him drive into her so eagerly. She could see him savor every stroke he made into her body. He was making small sounds, every now and then a grunt or gasp would be torn from him and she wondered if he expected her to be making such noises as well. She wasn't quite sure what exactly it was he wanted from her. Not precisely anyway. She examined her new programming and could only scan pictures of what she was supposed to do; it was like walking through an erotic gallery. So far all the images consisted of women allowing a male, or several males, entrance into their bodies, and she was doing that, so she supposed she was acting as was expected of her.

Beck panted with every thrust, feeling himself pound mercilessly into her. It was definitely a pro that his current fuck partner was someone who couldn't feel pain; otherwise he would have no doubt that any normal woman would be crying rape to the cops by morning.

"You are approaching orgasm, aren't you." The question part was only out of courtesy, she could clearly read the signs since they lined up with the definition of climax.

Beck was torn from his sex induced haze, pausing to look at her dumbly. "Huh?" Never hesitating the ruthless gyrations of his pelvic bone.

"Your hands are clenching with surprising strength for a human. Your legs are beginning to show the signs of mild spasms." She droned expertly.

He nodded, clenching his eyes shut. Why the hell did he find her monotonous voice so fucking erotic during sex? Oh God, now he'd probably be associating that damned deadpanned tone of hers with fucking for the rest of his natural life.

"Your muscles are beginning to go rigid. Your rhythm is increasing in pace. Your pulse has quickened."

"Yeah…" He nodded, his eyelids screwed shut, his mind concentrating on her voice as his libido responded to it. She wasn't even talking dirty, why the hell was it getting him off? But God she had better not stop because he was so fucking close!

"Your genitals are constricting-"

"YES! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" He cried, his spine suddenly going as taunt as a bow string. He gave a few more thrusts to ride out his climax before slumping down, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Dorothy observed his now slack face, his hands not being able to support him any longer as he fell against her. She could feel his hurried breath against her neck and hear him swallowing to regain the saliva to his mouth and throat. But most of all she could feel his hearty thumping madly against her. It started out beating insanely like a crazed humming bird, then it began to slow down, gradually it softened to its normal pace. "That is what an orgasm looks like, then?"

He nodded tiredly into the side of her neck. "Yeah."

"During climax, a human experiences a rush of endorphins. Endorphins dull pain and induce a calming and blissful effect."

"That's what they say." He muttered not really paying attention, his eyes already shut, intent on regaining sleep lost during the entirety of the day.

"Is that not what many people purchase illegal narcotics for?"

She felt him vibrate against her as he let out a funny little chuckle. "Yeah, but sex is so much cheaper."

* * *

Well what do ya think? Read and Review ppl.

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M e c h a n i c a l M e n : C h a p t e r II – H e r o i n s a i d H i

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* * *

Summary- Dorothy begins a few new 'studies'

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	2. Heroin said Hi!

Ya kno? I really like this fic so far, I'm pretty proud of it! I mean I've had this idea in my head for a while but I never submitted it because I thought would ban me or something, but now that they allow 'mature' fics to be submitted I decided to do just that. Even though their whole submitting system is unbearably gay. Oh yeah, and I got a few questions about this, Paradigm does have computers people. How do u think they made those CD's? How do you think Dorothy's programming Disk was written? Now the internet thing I'm not so sure about. But remember when Dastun was looking at Angel and the other rebels' records? There were printed pictures next to their files and everything so it obviously came from a computer. And if the rebels' have records to look up then I'm guessing the police station has a database online or something.

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C h a p t e r: II – H e r o i n S a i d " H i ! "

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_I used to be such a welfare stoner _

_I used to be such a twilight zoner _

_I used to be such a money-bumming boozer _

_I used to be a masochistic schmoozer _

_But now I'm worldwide- _

_You know that I made it _

_I'm above the law- _

_I'm the zillion dollar sadist _

_Zillion dollar sadist _

_What do you want? _

_What do you want for nothing baby? _

_What do you want? _

_What do you want for free? _

_I tell you what you need, _

_it's some Hanky-action baby _

_I wanna hear you scream in denim ecstasy, yes indeed. _

_Because now I'm worldwide- _

_you know that I made it _

_I'm above the world _

_I'm the zillion dollar sadist _

_zillion dollar sadist _

_Well Come on! _

_Yeah, I'm worldwide- _

_you know that I made it _

_I'm above the world _

_I'm the zillion dollar sadist _

_zillion dollar sadist _

_Take it to the bridge _

_I promise fun _

_To all and everyone. _

_No questions asked _

_It's gonna be great! _

_A new dimension of fun _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything you wanna do _

_Do anything, _

_you wanna do!_

"Zillion Dollar Super Sadist" – TurboNegro

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Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg 

Beck groaned irritably, curling deeper into the comforter.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg_

Another annoyed moan accompanied the persistent ringing as the blond haired man turned onto his other side.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg_

He exhaled dramatically in frustration before thrusting his head underneath his golden caramel hued pillow.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnggggggg_

Peeking one bloodshot eye out from under the cushion he glared menacingly at the innocent looking phone as it continued to vibrate with each piercing blare, willing it to suddenly spontaneously combust.

Beck let out a pleasurable sigh at the welcomed return of peaceful silence to his bedroom. Allowing himself a small, satisfied smile he tiredly propped his head back onto his billowy pillow, snuggling into its velvety comfort with a sleepy grin of happiness. His body started to relax once more into the yumminess of sleep as it began to drape a warm blanket of hazy, slothful, slumber over him.

_Bbbzzzzzzzzz!_

Two bloodshot eyes instantly snapped open as if a bullet had been fired. Jerking the covers away from his body he ignored the freezing rush of cold air hitting his once heated skin as he threw himself to the floor, frisking the ground for his pants.

_Bbbzzzzzzzzzz! Bbbzzzzzzzzzz!_

"I'mcomingI'mcomingI'mcoming!" He muttered frantically, giving a cry of victory when his hand at last grabbed hold of his gold colored pants in the murky darkness.

_Bbbzzzzzzzzzz!_

"Don'thangupDon'thangupDon'thangup!" He grumbled anxiously ferreting about in one pocket, cursing when he found it empty before darting to the other.

_Bbbzz-_

"Hello!" He said eagerly yanking the cellular phone from its confines inside his opposite pocket and smashing it to his ear.

"Why didn't you answer the phone, Beck?" Came the deep, baritone of Rosewater.

"What? I just did-"

"No, you answered your cell phone. I called your phone first." His voice had that eerie edge of fatality to it, like he already knew that Beck was at home to answer his call.

The blond paled, his eyes glancing guiltily at the gold plated telephone still hanging quietly on its receiver. "Eh, sorry. I just got outta the shower." He lied sincerely. He waited anxiously through the silence, grateful when his answer seemed to satisfy the older man.

"I need you here tomorrow. Come by around six." Rosewater commanded, but his voice seemed lined with some fatigue he was forcefully trying to contain. He guessed the battle with Smith hadn't gone as well as planned.

Nodding absentmindedly, Beck forgot for a moment that he was on the phone and not talking to his new boss in person. Before he got the chance to correct his slip up his ear was met with a click followed by an annoying dial tone. He sat there, temporarily stunned, before slumping to the floor with a breath of relief. His telephone was just a phone and anyone calling it probably wasn't someone he particularly wanted to talk to anyway, but only one of two people would call him personally on his cell phone. And either call wasn't one he could risk missing. Bringing his index and forefinger up to his face he gently rubbed the weariness from his sleep-sore eyes. Turning, he raised his head to eye the digital clock, glaring a bright red 10:17 p.m. at him. 'That's what ya get for falling asleep at 7 a.m.' he thought tiredly.

Giving brief pause to stretch, he climbed back into bed almost startled to find someone else in it. Suddenly all the memories of the past few hours tore through the induced fog of sleep. He was however a little surprised to find her in the same exact position he had left her in. She simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Had her eyes not been open, and she not been a machine, he would have thought her asleep too. He observed her confusedly for second, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Hey." He said reaching out to shake her shoulder.

Instantly upon contact, Dorothy's arm darted out, rudely shoving him away from her. Unfortunately, with her strength, she also shoved him away from the bed, and back onto the floor. A painful grunt reverberated up from the floor as he lay there, now trying to sort through the pain _and_ exhaustion of a tired brain.

"Access denied."

Beck tenderly kneeled up to look over the bed at her. She was sitting up now watching him carefully. "What?"

"Access denied. The username or password you entered was incorrect. If you have forgotten your password, please use the lost password form to recover it. If you are still unable to recover your password, see the FAQ for more information. If you would like to sign up for a username and password please go to registration."

'_Oh, this again.'_

"Please enter username, or if you would like to register for a username, please go to registration."

"Jason Beck."

"Please enter password."

"Android lover." He answered lazily crawling back into bed, scootching back beneath the covers, and folding his arms behind his head comfortably.

"Username and password combination, accepted. Welcome, Jason Beck."

"Yeah, yeah." He said, still feeling rather offended at being hurled from his own bed.

"Why did you not answer the phone?" She questioned after a while.

"Huh? You could hear that?"

"Yes. Couldn't you?"

"I was too tired to answer it. Besides, I thought you were, I dunno, 'logged out' or something like that. How could you hear it?"

"This system, after so many hours of inactivity will log you out of your running program; however, my sensors are still able to remain active by running off of it." She explained.

Beck blinked unintelligibly. He didn't really care that much about how she was still able to remain active, but her answer didn't go completely to waste. "So then why didn't _you_ answer the phone?"

"This compact disk, when online, runs off of your commands. When you are logged out, I can only run off of commands of its own." She deadpanned.

"And those are….."

"To await correct corresponding usernames and passwords. No one may gain access without them."

"Huh, good security." He grumbled rubbing his sore shoulder grudgingly.

"I would advise you to enter your username and password before attempting to gain access."

A lecherous grin spread across his face as he leered at her suggestively. "And what exactly would I be attempting to gain access to?" He asked feigning naivety.

"My body. Is that not the reason you have given me this lewd program?"

Beck sighed pleasurably. "Yeah, I just like to hear you say it." He said waving away her questions. His back expanded leisurely until he heard a resounding crack. A flash of almost unnoticeable pain shot up his spine before a calming satisfaction floated in its place. For some reason he always woke up with a kink or two that needed a good popping. His eyes went to the ceiling, mimicking her own position not a few moments ago. He really wasn't sleepy anymore, and he was still somewhat sated with sexual aftershock, so he felt no particular urge to go again quite yet. He shifted a bit here and there, the beginnings of boredom starting to set in. Of course maybe he would feel more inclined to initiate a few more sexcapades if he knew he wouldn't be the only participant, he thought sourly. "I know we're not exactly 'bosom buddies' here, but you could of at least _acknowledged_ my presence last night." He stated bitterly.

"I was aware of you." She replied.

"Not like that! I mean _I _was doing all the work. Crow Boy must've taught you a few moves, or something." He griped.

"Roger has never taught me anything of a sexual nature, if that is what you are referring to."

He stared at her as if waiting for her to say 'just kidding.' "Are you serious?"

"Yes." Dorothy only observed as the lengthy man burst out into uncontrollable laughter, clutching at his sides and kicking his feet as if in the beginning stages of a fit.

He gasped for air holding his ribs trying to control the straining pain there from his hilarity, his finger idly rising to dab away the tears at his eyes. "Wait wait, okay. So you're telling me that all this time that you've been in that house, full of men, that Smith not even _once_ tried anything?"

"If by 'tried anything' you mean if he has ever made sexual advances towards me, then no."

At that Beck resumed his laughter, though he did make an effort to not roll around so much and did try to control it a bit. "Then what the hell did he bring you home for? To clean?" He chuckled.

"Yes."

This time he couldn't even summon the strength to make an effort as his stomach shook and spasmed. Had he been drinking milk it would have sprayed harder than a fireman hose as he proceeded to laugh himself off the bed. Even the painful crash onto the floor didn't phase or pause his mirth.

Dorothy crept to the edge to once again see him curled and shaking in the fetal position, but this time it was his ribs he was clutching instead of his groin. The same roaring hilarity blared from his mouth as he merrily kicked his feet.

Finally, only when his lungs began to complain for air did he feel his ecstatic amusement die into merry giggles. With a satisfied sigh his eyes slid open to find Dorothy peering over the ledge of the bed again. He took the time to examine her rare immaculate-less appearance. Her neck and chest harbored quite of few trails of dried saliva, crusted where he left it, and her hair now gave her the look of a frazzled cat, locks fraying here and there and her bangs shagging into her eyes. He raised his hand nonchalantly to her chest, his thumb idly drawing invisible circles around her nipple. Well she _had_ said that she wasn't made for sex, and Roger, like an impotent dumbass, had obviously heeded that stupid little warning. Beck on the other hand, firmly believed that if there was a rule, there was most likely a creative way to get around it. A sudden grin spread across his face.

"Hey, ya know what we should do?" He wasn't really asking her but she decided to reply anyway.

"Retrieve my original disk and hard drive and return me to Roger." She said, her voice almost a command.

"No. Its late, lets go to a strip club." He suggested getting to his feet. "I'm gonna take a quick shower then we can go." He said already having his mind made up and ambling in all of his nude glory towards the bathroom.

Dorothy watched his form disappear behind the door into the connecting room. Twisting her feet from under her she stepped from the bed to take a brief walk about the room, examining her surroundings for the first time. It seemed if anything could be gold colored or plated it probably was. The room was foppishly gaudy at best. Black carpeting lined the floor along with black curtains, dressers and nightstands. The bed, pillows and walls were a warm golden honey color. Upon her inspection she noticed the open door of the bedroom, most likely leading to the rest of the apartment. Glancing at her clothes sagging limply in random places about the room she gave pause to wonder if she should get dressed just yet. Would he want her to take a shower as well? She temporarily dismissed the clothes to walk out of the room and into the hallway, had he wanted or expected her to be dressed by the time he was done bathing he would have instructed her to do so. Besides, her programming urged her to cover her body as little as possible.

The short, barren hallway led to a large living room on the right and a decent sized kitchen on the left. She noticed to the far right of the hallway was another door, no doubt leading to another bedroom. Stepping into the juncture between the kitchen and living room her eyes scanned towards a different door resting between the two, the notch above the knob was turned up indicating that it was more than likely locked. It probably was the only exit in the entire home. She stared at it for a long while knowing that had she her original disk to run from her sensors would be telling her rip the door from its hinges and calmly return to Roger. But for some reason she could not do that now. No one had instructed her to return to the mansion of Roger Smith, so she would have no proclivity of leaving. Yet even without her other disk, which allowed her so much freedom, she was still self aware enough to know that getting back to Roger was what she _should_ do. Unfortunately, for now all she could do was wait. Even though the mathematical odds of her ever retrieving her original hard drive and memory circuits were slim, Roger would still most likely be looking for her. And her sensors computed that it was more favorable for her well being to be returned to Roger than to be under Jason Beck's control with this program. Still, as long as she had this program inside her, she could do nothing but wait. But at least that was something any android or mechanical creation was skilled in. Waiting. Because unlike humans, she had all the time in the world.

Walking sullenly up she raised her cold metallic hand to place it upon the barrier between herself and freedom. _'Push it open.'_ Dorothy tried to focus all of her sensory circuits into obeying but it was like running a compact disk in an incompatible system, her hand simply wouldn't press. She could always short circuit herself but what good would she be then? It was unlikely that Beck would take the time and energy to get her repaired a second time. And she was more useful to herself functioning than not. She could not find a loophole in this program if she was shutdown. No, she would continue to function as long as the possibility of leaving remained.

Giving up for the moment, Dorothy let her hand slip from the door and moved into the living room. A long black, velvet couch lay against the wall, a honey colored coffee table sat in front of it, and on the side of it stood a caramel tinted nightstand with an extravagant lamp on top. The Living Room was also carpeted in a warm golden color ending at the far end of the room where two sliding glass doors met. Looking beyond the doors Dorothy noted a small balcony protruding from the side of the spacious apartment. It reminded her somewhat of the balcony she had taken a penchant to sitting on at the mansion. Almost involuntarily, she began pacing towards it. Just as she came to the middle of the room something caught her attention out of her peripheral vision. A small empty bookshelf lay against the wall opposite of the couch, several pictures of different sizes in different frames sat atop said shelf. She examined it for a second before crossing the room. The shelf was a gold color, much like most of the furniture in the home. Her eyes skimmed over each picture, many were black and whites of practically nude women posing suggestively or wrapping them themselves seductively around a shining metal pole. Every now and then one would include a well dressed middle aged man with raven hair gelled back against his scalp and a thin black goatee dusting his chin and upper lip. He would usually be seen grinning around a flaming cigar or holding a glass of something that was no doubt liquor of some sort in his hand, or both.

One picture in particular caught her attention. It rested in the middle amidst the others in a noticeably well-crafted bronze frame. Several scantily clad women gathered around what looked like a catwalk with the same metal pole thrusting up out of it at the end. They all stood close together, some leaning over the other to get into the picture, but all were smiling brilliantly into the camera. There on the catwalk was a tall voluptuous young woman with long, thick, curly blond hair and seductive eyes leaning back, hanging lazily off the pole on top of the catwalk, one leg wrapped around the metal shaft, the other lifting straight in the air. As the hand not facing the camera gripped the pole, the other grasped a young boy with hair and a smile that mimicked her own. The young boy and woman both grinned slyly into the camera, the boy's hands resting atop the woman's arm that was playfully wrapped around his waist. The same raven haired man leaned casually against the side of the walk puffing away at his cigar, wearing a red dress shirt and black pants while the blond woman, as well as most of the others, wore nothing but a pair of miniscule red panties that disappeared into a thin string down her buttocks, and her well endowed chest covered only with scarlet tassels that hung from her nipples. The little boy was dressed similar to the dark haired man, wearing a yellow dress shirt that looked at least one size too big for him, and a pair of khaki paints held up by caramel colored suspenders, probably the only thing that kept the pants from dropping to his ankles. His thick blond hair was gelled neatly to retain his curls yet a large rebellious coil still managed to sweep across his forehead, brushing a set of overly large classes that his little nose could barely support. He looked young and boyish; he couldn't have been more than seven or eight in the picture.

"Hey, what're you doing out here?"

Dorothy looked up from the picture she was holding to see Beck standing in between the kitchen and living room, one hand holding a white towel at his hips. His hair, she noticed, was already blown dry and gelled perfectly into place. The rest of him appeared to be dry enough as well, the only thing she assumed he needed to do was get dressed. Dismissing him for the moment she returned to the picture.

"Is this you?" She questioned, not taking her eyes away from the portrait.

"Huh?" Wanting to see what was so fetching, Beck sauntered over to the unclothed android, stopping behind her to peer over her shoulder. "Oh, that. Yeah." He said glancing at the photograph.

"Is that your sister? The one holding you?" She asked.

"_Her_?" He asked incredulously, pointing at the slinky blond woman curled around the gleaming, fireman pole. "No, that's my mom." He corrected.

"She possesses fairly young features." Dorothy noted, her tone wasn't condescending or implying, she was just stating an observation. The woman looked to be about twenty-two or twenty-three. It was quite young to already have a seven or eight year old boy, compared to what she had seen of most human women. That would make her fifteen or fourteen when she birthed him.

"Yeah she was a teen mom. Go wash real quick, we gotta leave." He instructed jerking his thumb towards the hallway, probably indicating the bathroom.

Setting the photo down she strode off down the hallway towards the bathroom, Beck in toe.

He stopped at the closet lying against the wall opposite his bed and began to rummage through his clothing while Dorothy moved into the bathroom. Black marble tile decorated the floor, moving up into an ebony toilet, onyx bathtub, and a black marble sink with a gold faucet, handles and gold-framed mirror above it. The shower was on the other side of the bathroom and resembled a glass box. She gave it a brief once over before sliding back the crystallized door and climbing in. Recognizing the knobs for hot and cold she reached out and turned the hot knob only halfway. It didn't matter how hot or cold the water was, she couldn't feel the extreme of either temperature either way, but scalding water tended to damage the skin covering her metallic body and she would rather not do any more repairs on herself then need be.

Instantly the water poured down onto her like rain, running tiny rivets along every curve of her slight form. Already finding the bath sponge she proceeded to run it along the trails of dried saliva crusted to her neck and chest, scrubbing her body free from other bacteria or dirt particles that may have gotten onto her. Traveling the sponge down the length of her steel-like stomach she noticed another liquid had dried along her thighs and into the hole between her legs. Without giving it a second thought she continued to scour it away with the coral-like sponge. Quickly washing herself, she conditioned, and rinsed her hair before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower.

Grabbing a towel from the hook she efficiently dried her body and hair before picking up a random comb from the sink and brushing her locks free of any knot or tangle. Walking back into the bedroom she saw that Beck was just buttoning up his golden over-jacket. He looked up from his work seeming surprised to see her standing there.

"You done already?"

Dorothy gave a curt nod before Beck handed her a bundle of black that she recognized as the skirt part of her dress and her underwear.

"Here, put these on and I'll find you a shirt."

She did as she was told. Sliding into her skirt and underwear, reaching behind her to zip it up just as he popped back out of his closet with a honey colored, satin, dress shirt.

"Put your arms out to the side." He instructed holding out the shirt.

Her arms rose with the same mechanical noises that accompanied many of her movements. He proceeded to slip it onto her as though she were a doll to play dress up with. The shirt was obviously a man's, as it sagged pitifully off of her waiflike frame. She watched him impassively as he studied her for a moment before buttoning her selectively. He started with her collar, leaving a few unbuttoned, and ended at her metal rib cage, tying the ends in a knot a few inches below her breasts.

"There ya go." He said pleasingly. The sleeves had to be rolled up to keep from hanging off her hands, but they still billowed widely from her elbows. Stepping back to admire her, his eyes ran over her frame all the way up to her dour face. "We better stop and get some shoes on the way." He proclaimed.

Glancing down at herself Dorothy had to come to the conclusion that Jason Beck's handicap in taste far surpassed that of Roger Smith.

"Okay! Lets go!" He exclaimed, taking her by the wrist to hurry out the door.

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"Your mother resembles the women portrayed in this program." Dorothy noted, resuming the conversation of earlier once they got in the car.

"My Mom wasn't a porn star." He objected, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye; though Dorothy paid him no mind. "She worked as an exotic dancer. Her parents were two lost people that only got married because of that sudden plague of amnesia. They were lonely and it seemed a good idea at the time. But I guess the more they got to know each other the more they hated each other's guts so they got divorced soon after Mom was born. Her mom left and she lived with her dad until he died when she was twelve. Instead of going to live with her mom she ran away. About a year later a guy named Max Broderick found her busing tables-"

"Was he the man in the pictures?"

"Yeah that's him. Anyways, Mom was an 'early bloomer' and he said she was hot-" Dorothy watched the slight twitch in his eye at being forced to refer to his mother as 'hot.' "and asked her if she wanted to come work for him. He owned a pretty upscale gentlemen's club and could pay her pretty well. She agreed and as far as I know still works there."

"As an exotic dancer?"

"Nah, last I heard she retired when she turned thirty five and works as the manager now."

"Is Max Broderick your father?"

"Hm?" He asked, as if that were an option he had never considered himself. "No, he's not my dad. I never met the guy." He shrugged nonchalantly. He _had_ seen Max as a father figure, him being the only other male constant at the club.

"You were raised in a gentlemen's club, then?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The club was one big building, with the club in the lower part and all the apartments above it. Mom and I had an apartment in the upper wing with the rest of the strippers." He said conversationally. "That's gotta be every boy's dream." He chuckled.

"When did you leave?"

"When I was sixteen."

"Have you seen your mother?"

"Not since I left?"

"Why?"

Beck shrugged. "I dunno. I was either on a heist, working angles, or in prison." He said the last part glimpsing at her rather accusingly.

Dorothy said nothing. She stared out her window watching the night scenery pass by, noticing that they had entered the slummier part of Paradigm. Every now and then they would pass a suggestively dressed woman, or two, soliciting herself on the street, or a shifty looking man exchanging money for something in a small package to a particularly desperate looking person. Bright lights of bars, strip clubs, and casinos lit up the filth smeared streets. Her head turned to attention when the car made a turn and pulled into the parking lot of an odd shop. A bright, neon red sign, spelled out 'Tricks and Treats' in vertical letters outlining the neon red silhouette of a naked female posing provocatively against the letters.

"I'll be back." Was the only leave Beck gave as he exited the car and made his way into the seductive store.

Waiting patiently, Dorothy returned to her window. Trash littered the sidewalks and streets, and would toss and turn every now and then when the wind picked up. She briefly entertained the thought of getting out to pick it all up, but shot it down just as soon as it had risen. He had not told her to get out of the car. Her eyes traveled up the side of an especially seedy looking building. The bricks it was built with were old and decaying, mold was beginning to formulate on its side and bacteria was breeding within its crevices.

"Miss!"

Suddenly two grimy hands were pressed against her pristine window along with a dirt-smudged face. Any normal woman would have immediately startled back in fright, but Dorothy only looked up into the dirty face, taking notice of his raggedy clothing. "Hey Miss, you got any change?" He asked clawing at her window with his yellow fingernails. "Roll down your window, I just want to talk to ya!" He pleaded.

Dorothy obediently pressed the button, her window slowly moving down with an automated buzzing. Instantly the car filled with the odor of rot as the man pushed his head invasively through the opening, what was left of his greasy, unwashed hair sticking to his forehead and scalp. "You got any change? Please Miss, I haven't eaten in days!" He beseeched, a foul stench coming from a mouth full of yellow decaying teeth.

"I am sorry but I have no money, I cannot help you." She said monotonously.

He looked at her outraged before his encrusted hand darted into the car with the rest of his head, clutching her arm. "Don't give me that! You come down here in a car like this, dressed like that, and expect me to believe you've ain't got _nothing_!" He said jerking her unmoving arm.

Dorothy assumed with his grunting and pulling that he was attempting to yank her through the window, she supposed had she been human he most likely would have succeeded. But since she was not, her gaze merely flickered to the hand gripping her arm that still remained at her side with her own hands fixed politely in her lap. Her head turned when she heard the door to the shop swing open with a deafening crash.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!" Beck shouted, instantly dropping his bags and yanking out a silver coated pistol, firing several shots at the grime covered man who gave a few choice curses before releasing her to dash down the corner and out of sight.

Beck continued to glare at the path the man had taken before reaching down, grumbling, to gather his bags back up and make his way to the car. Throwing them quickly into her side of the car he swung into his seat slamming the door behind him. "Fucking rat…" He muttered turning on the ignition. "What the hell'd you let him in the car for!" He exclaimed.

"I did not let him in the car. I simply rolled down my window." She corrected.

"What the hell for!"

"Because he asked me to."

Beck gaped at her for a second before returning to grumbling to himself and backing out of the driveway. "From now on don't open the door, or roll down the window for anybody but me, got it?" He stated brusquely.

Dorothy gave a terse nod about to resume her post at the now grease smeared window before be pushed a certain bag further into her lap.

"Open it." He coaxed.

Beck watched her out of the corner of his eye as she looked down at the white paper bag, parting the string handles to examine his purchase. His eyes followed her petite hand seeing it disappear into the sack and pull out a mane of blond hair, holding it out for her inspection. "Quick put it on!" He urged.

The android glanced at him then back to the long wig resting in her hand. It was a cornflower color, the straight hair flowing into her lap, long bangs curling around and framing her wrist. Swaying it over her head, she tugged it over her own hair, the elastic band catching and damaging the red strands until she tucked the locks underneath the wig. A gold covered arm darted in front of her to pull down a flap in the car to reveal a mirror. Dorothy studied her new appearance objectively. Silky blond bangs now brushed her forehead, growing in length down her cheeks until it framed her face handsomely, the length of the hair altogether coming below her waist. The color went naturally with her deathly pale complexion, but her dark mechanical eyes and eyebrows made it look fake. "What is this for?"

"Don't wanna be recognized on this side of town, now do ya?" He joked.

"I do not think it is me who does not want to be recognized." She said looking through the car windshield. "Besides, there is nothing for you to worry about. I doubt Roger Smith would ever come willingly to this section of the city."

Beck blanched for a second before scoffing. "I'm not worried about Crow Boy! You're supposed to be 'out of commission.' Rosewater would be shitting kittens if anyone told him I put you back online."

Dorothy glanced at him briefly before turning back. He was telling half-truths, that much was obvious. She had no doubt that Alex Rosewater would not be the least bit pleased to find out that she was still functioning, but he needed Jason Beck enough to make him indispensable. For some reason that she could not compute, he was still apprehensive about Roger randomly appearing. Like a little boy would a shopkeeper he had stolen from. Either way, she dismissed it until he once again caught her attention.

"There are some shoes in the bag at your feet." He indicated.

Following his instructions she glanced at the floor and sure enough she could plainly see a pair of black shoes at the bottom of the bag. Leaning down far enough to pull them out she notices they were high heels with two straps that went around her ankles. She could tell Beck was watching her as she pulled the provocative heel onto her slender foot, dispassionately strapping on the first strap before moving on to the second shoe. Dorothy leaned back into her seat once she was done, idly lifting up one leg a little to scrutinize the new look. The extended heel made gave her leg the illusion of lengthiness, she noted.

"We're here!" Beck jovially announced.

Dorothy looked up as they pulled in front of a well-illuminated building. Like the shop it had bright neon outlines of naked females posed implicatively around the construction. She followed Beck's lead and opened the car door, stepping out in front of what she guess was the 'strip club.' Instead of going for the door she watched him move to go around the building before following after him.

At the back of a building was a set of steps that led to a door with a slotted peephole.

"C'mon." He said, not looking at her as he climbed up the steps.

She did as she was told and hastened her pace a fraction, finding herself climbing up after him. She stopped at his back when he halted at the door, raising his arm to languidly rap at the new entrance with the back of his knuckles. Almost instantly the slot swished open revealing a pair of suspicious eyes glaring out.

"What?" Came a rumbling voice from behind the door.

"Its me." Beck said simply, casually pulling out a card from his wallet and flashing it in front of the slot.

The voice behind the door chuckled, snapping the slot shut, before yanking the door open with a mighty swing. A large, muscular man stood there in the entranceway, his baldhead shining in the red light of the room. "C'mon in." He said grinning deviously at the other man.

Beck put a hand to Dorothy's shoulder, ushering her in before him. Although it was rather difficult to 'usher' a two hundred and forty pound robot. The room was lit with a scarlet glow, occasionally other purples and reds filtered about with the ever moving, multi-colored spotlights. An impossibly long couch stretched, and circled the entirety of the room where a long catwalk protruded into the middle of it. A small bar was set off to the side where a middle aged bar tender scrubbed carelessly away at an empty glass mug. There were only a few other customers there; the rest of the room was taken up by several strippers being ogled by the random clientele. Some swung lazily from the poll erected from the catwalk, others danced and gyrated on it, and the rest shimmied and dipped in the throes of their erotic dance while awestruck customers tripped over themselves to shove dollar bills down their stringy panties.

He was like a caged animal finally being returned to his natural habitat. Dorothy followed as Beck paid his greetings to passing clients, the bartender, and of course the dancers. Pausing briefly to order a quick drink, he then made his way over to the circling sofa, unceremoniously throwing himself back into the cushions with a dramatic sigh. Dorothy sat down mechanically, her posture as immaculate as ever and seated far enough off the couch to let the span of her feet touch the carpeted floor. Beck fished around through his coat pockets before lazily pulling out another cigar. "The price of these things is getting fucking insane." He commented, idly clipping the end off. He was just lighting it up as a girl came up to them with the bartender who handed him his drink.

"Hey there Beck-honey, haven't seen you in a while. Who's your friend?" She asked, already beginning to sway her hips with the seductive music.

"What can I say? I'm a busy man." He said, popping the cigar in his mouth, wanting to get a quick puff in before continuing. "This is Dorothy." He finished, blowing a gust of smoke through his nostrils.

The woman's focus went to the stoic girl next to him before moving so she was more or less dancing in front of her to get her attention. "I'm Jasmine. That's not your real hair color is it? I can tell, I use the bottle too. Mine's Summer Honey-Suckle, what do you use?" She inquired, doing a gyrating twirl before coming back to face her.

Dorothy remained unmoved by an act that would have even the most lascivious of men bleeding out the nose. "I don't know. I didn't buy it." She responded coolly.

Jasmine did a mock shiver and 'brrr'ed coyly. "My my, so cold. What's wrong, honey? Don'tchya like me?"

Beck gave an obnoxious laugh. "She doesn't like anybody." He casually remarked, downing his drink in one swig.

"You don't say." The dancer replied, eyeing the other girl with new interest. "Anything I can do to change that? C'mon sweetie, I don't bite." She purred, snapping her teeth in a teasing chomp.

His mind was a great flood of sinful images projected from that very statement. "Now _that_ would be something you don't see everyday." He slurred, gesturing the waiter for another drink. Sniggering at the thought, he wondered just how far the girl would go until she figured out her new crush was an android.

Dorothy said nothing and continued to look ahead unaffected. This place was for the procreational daydreams of men and she had no actual purpose in this establishment. Her sensors buzzed and calculated but couldn't yet come to a conclusion as to why Jason Beck would bring her here. She noticed the woman that had been moving erotically in front of her was now slouching off in a pout after another ten minutes of not catching her attention.

The flashing lights and red of the room all began to mesh and blur together as Beck tossed his forth glass of the evening down with a glorified gulp. He eyes roved over the other girls as they swayed and twisted in front of the gawking men. Throwing his hands over the back of the sofa he let himself relax even further into the cushioning. This was turning out to be the best strip-night ever! He tossed a glimpse at the android sitting next him, still looking as rigid as the world's most anal-retentive librarian. He knew she wasn't really watching anything, more like just looking forward, but he followed her gaze to one of the pole dancers wrapping her legs around the bar from an upside down position. "Think you could do that?" He giggled.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye she looked ahead again, focusing on the woman he was referring to. The girl looked to be balancing her body weight between her back and thighs, and she did a mental scan to check the weight limit of the pole before replying. "Yes."

Yet another comment that had him all a-twitter with images he would pay good money to realize. "Why don't _we_ have one of those?" He groused, eyeing the gleaming fireman's shaft. He was curious as to what it would cost to actually install it in the living room. Throwing back his next glass he felt the edges of his vision fuzz gloriously.

The next few hours went by rather uneventfully. Dorothy sat and computed the factors in her surroundings, saving it to memory, while Beck was beginning to have a bit of a hard time keeping his eyes from crossing in front of him. "Yep, definitely think I'm at my limit." He lilted drunkenly.

Dorothy spared him a fleeting glimpse, taking in his change in balance and demeanor and considered the many physical variables the liquor substances had now altered. "Your blood-alcohol level is past the legal driving limit." She informed impassively.

Beck swayed up almost landing face first on the carpet. Regaining his footing he swung around to mischievously dangle the care keys before her mechanical eyes. "That's only if we get pulled over." He sing-songed.

Rising up herself she followed him out the door, pausing as he bid his slurred farewells to the chuckling bouncer. She stopped at the steps and waited for him to clamber down the few stairs, idly wondering whether or not she should grab his arm to help center his body weight from the dramatic seesaw motions he was making before he skidded his face on the pavement. Then again, he hadn't told her to do so and from what she could recall on her memory drive she had no reason to give him any sort of show of preference.

She watched as he clung to the railing like a life raft in the middle of a shark-infested ocean. As much as he boasted, he truly must've been born a lucky man because he made it down in one piece, even when all her statistic readings showed her his chances of smashing his forehead into the concrete were 12,673,002 to 1. Apparently he was that ever so fortunate 1.

Walking easily down the steps after him she followed behind until they reached the car. Dorothy stopped again in front it as if it were the most obvious thing to do.

He had his fingers on the handle and sluggishly turned her way. "What?" He questioned when he noticed she wasn't getting in.

"Your reaction time has been slowed by 10 percent, your inhibitions have been dulled. You are not fit to drive." She stated.

In total honesty, he could have summed up that whole spiel in a three second commentary, 'you're drunk.' There, that's all she had to say, jeeze. "Loosen up, live a little." He drawled with a careless shrug, staggering into the car. He hit his head on the side of the roof and bruised his hip on the shift, but eventually made it in. Rubbing his new glamorous bruise he glanced to the side noticing the empty seat to his right. "Hey-"

_CRASH!_

His slur was abruptly cut off by the sudden violent twisting and crushing of metal and wires. Beck couldn't have shoved his head out the window faster had someone thrown him out. Frantically scrambling half his body out of the small opening he gawked hysterically at the new crater replacing what used to be a suped up engine God himself would've been proud of. Thin swirls of smoke trailed from the gaping hole, and tortured whistles of pressurized air could be heard wheezing from the crumpled hood.

He didn't know if his muscles simply couldn't hold him up any more at such an awkward angle, or if he was having his first heart attack. Either way the next thing he knew he was tumbling out the window and hitting the pavement with a painful 'thump!', though it was barely felt over the roaring white noise ringing in his ears. Quickly recovering himself, he reeled up and stumbled over to horror sight.

For a moment he could only gawk at the grotesque hole, heroically fighting back the miserable stinging behind his eyes as she calmly replaced her placid fist by her side. What did you say? What _could_ you say to _this_? "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He bellowed. Was she menstrual? Could robots _get_ menstrual?

Dorothy seemed completely unaffected by the panicked tirade. "You do not have the level of focused awareness or reaction time required to drive any vehicle."

Beck's mouth opened and closed, flapping for anything to say. "What the hell are we supposed to do?" He squawked dumbly.

"We walk." She deadpanned already starting off on the sidewalk of the street they'd taken.

Giving his demolished pride and joy one last mourning look he began to swagger after her. He'd always managed to avoid hangovers before, he was just lucky that way, but right now he could feel the bile rising in his stomach. Tossing her rigid back a scathing glare he wondered how she would react, if she did at all, if he simply spilled his guts all over her that expressionless face of hers.

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End file.
